Page 40 of Willowbrooke
I let out a deep exhale, already feeling so much better that he was here.
I wasn’t alone.
I hadn’t been alone in that room either.
The shadow was gone…but so was the journal…
Something warm moved beneath me, bringing me to a somewhat conscious state. My sleepy gaze met Leo’s. I had fallen asleep on him, in the living room.
“What time is it?” I grumbled.
“Early enough—you want some coffee?” Leo’s husky morning voice was a rare treat.
I nodded, leaning back into the sofa, running my hands over my face.
“Sorry,” I said without thinking.
“Why?” Leo slowly stood from the couch—had he slept too?
“For falling asleep on you—how embarrassing.” I chuckled.
“So embarrassing.” He laughed with me, simultaneously dismissing my concerns.
“I need to change,” I thought aloud. I was still wearing jeans and a blazer from the day before.
“Coffee will be ready in five,” Leo replied.
In the gray morning light, the upstairs didn’t look as scary as the night before. It didn’t hurt that Leo had left allthe lights on overnight. I turned them off one by one as I walked through the second floor, also searching for the lost journal. I really was beginning to wonder if I’d made up the entire thing.
I spent most of the day nervously searching the rest of the house with no luck, while Leo watched me from afar, unaware of what I was doing, and while he seemed to be concerned with my state of mind, he let me proceed without hindering my efforts.
I turned up absolutely nothing.
By the time a storm rolled in, late afternoon, the house had begun to get dark, and I no longer felt safe wandering around alone, so I made my way back to the living room, where Leo had been reading most of the day, when he wasn’t tending to a roast he’d been watching scrupulously in the slow cooker.
Sheets of rain and wind pelted the wall of windows in the living room, startling me more than once before Leo relented and decided to close the curtains. We had an arrangement that they would remain open during daylight, but since the storm had brought twilight early, I didn’t argue with him. But we could still see the flashes of lighting through the transom windows above the larger windows, which weren’t covered by curtains, as well as through some of the frosted glass windows around the front door.
Over a glass of wine, and Leo’s delicious dinner, he could sense that something was still amiss. “You sure you’re alright?”
“It’s the storm—my nerves are shot.” I gave him a half-truth. And right on cue, thunder rumbled across the sky, angrily agreeing with my assessment.
“I’m worried about you,” he admitted, “You can tell me what’s going on.”
Just as he’d told me that night in the library, when he’d confessed I was the only person he trusted…he could see right through me. Lying was a pointless game. But I wasn’t ready to spill everything. I still held out hope I could find the journal.
“I don’t think I can sleep in the pink room again.” I sighed in defeat.
Leo smiled softly. “You don’t have to go back up there—you can sleep in my room for as long as you want.”
I hadn’t expected him to put that on the table. “Really?” The thought of getting a good night’s sleep in his soft, warm, comfy bed that smelled like him made my heart soar.
“Sure—after what happened last night, I don’t blame you. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable here.” He took another bite of his food. “You want another glass?” Leo pointed to my empty stemware.
I nodded, smiling for the first time in a while. I wasn’t sure if it was the thought that I wouldn’t have to be alone, in the dark, in that awful room anymore, or simply the wine, but I felt the familiar warmth tingle through me.
I think maybe Leo was feeling the wine too, because when he came back over to the couch with two more glassesfor each of us, he surprised me when he said, “It’s been really nice to have you around the last few weeks.”
“I’m very grateful you opened your home up to me when I had nowhere else to go.”
